F^@& me gently with a chainsaw
Jul. 2nd, 2009 02:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grammarwomanI'm struggling here, guys. Recent life events have felt like getting pecked to death by freaking ducks.
The husband has made no progress on getting a new job, with his end date looming in two weeks. And by no progress, I mean he hasn't even tried to do ANYTHING, including making a single goddamn phone call that has a pretty good chance of offering him something. I don't think I have the energy to walk the supportive-nag tightrope again.
The Emperor has been doing fabulously, right up until I got a phone call from his teacher yesterday that he wouldn't settle down in the morning and punched one of his classmates. Twice. They wouldn't let him go on the scheduled field trip, which I totally agree with, but the oblivious boy didn't even appear to care or even notice that he was left behind and was completely unrepentant about the whole thing. Plus, daycare didn't refund my money.
Last week, the dryer died after four loads of laundry. Luckily the necessary stuff had been processed and only two loads needed to be dried. (Thanks again to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leiaorgana_73 for the use of her facilities and copious "My Boys".) Of course, the task of scheduling a repair fell to me. Today, one place led me on a merry chase through its phone tree, and I'm waiting on another to call me back. I'd really like to set up an appointment for tomorrow, considering that the husband (who has the day off for the holiday) will be home with the Emperor (whose daycare's days off put bank holidays to shame).
Last weekend, the AC fizzled, and we rediscovered just how bad our windows are when we tried to open them to get some circulation going through the house. (About a third couldn't even be opened.) I would complain harder about the $180 charge for the half-hour visit it took to repair the AC, but the guy did come out on a Sunday morning, and heaven knows that I can't live with 85+ degree temps and high humidity in the house. It's not my fault that I was built for colder, drier climates.
We're trying to refinance our mortgage, to both roll in our nearly-maxed-out home equity line of credit and take advantage of the lower rates. It's been three weeks since the husband talked to our mortgage guy. I've called him three times since then, actually reaching him yesterday, whereupon he promised to email the necessary docs and call me back today. Guess what? Not a peep on either front.
With my usual late bedtime and the exciting new development of having trouble falling asleep, I'm more tired and less resilient than ever. Just when I was ready to take the plunge into getting up early and exercising, the Emperor started waking up even earlier. Thank Zod for small favors, though; at least he's getting dressed all by himself now. He's also loving online Nick Jr. games on my Eee. It's kinda frightening how quickly he's taken to navigating by track-pad. However, this means that my safe surfing times are after he's gone to bed.
Work has been pretty low-stress, except for the parts where I try to ask simple questions on my sections of the project, and then "Crap! We didn't think about that - let me get back to you" delays completely derail my efforts.
We'll be getting some quality family time with the in-laws this weekend as a nephew turns two, then hopefully we'll be attending the local fireworks display at the home ofdsjones and deaconobvious, with our spazzing dog in tow. I wish I'd gotten around to getting sedatives for her. At the last vet visit, I was too busy fending off the hard sell on flea/tick and heartworm meds.
It also doesn't help that I'm taking this recent parade of celebrity deaths a little too hard. I'm starting to get scared of even looking at the recent news page. Bad news is supposed to come in threes, not powers of three.
One bright spot has been that my company managed to squeak through last year's fiscal plan with just enough excess to warrant a small bonus. I took that as a sign to finally buy my Farscape Creation con ticket for Burbank in November, finances be damned. My excited anticipation for that was dimmed almost immediately with Creation's relentless quest for cash. $7.50 handling charge for each item I buy? Dudes, you're already killing me on the base prices. Not that it's news to anyone how much Creation sucks, but if they weren't complete assholes about how much they charge, I could work in going to Polaris to see David Hewlett, or Dragon*Con to see everybody else, or Pittsburgh for a summer Fangirlium...*grumble*
It seems like a lot of other peole are feeling beat-down, too, with life really putting the 'con' in 'confluence of events'. I prescribe huge monetary or other beneficial windfalls for us all.
The husband has made no progress on getting a new job, with his end date looming in two weeks. And by no progress, I mean he hasn't even tried to do ANYTHING, including making a single goddamn phone call that has a pretty good chance of offering him something. I don't think I have the energy to walk the supportive-nag tightrope again.
The Emperor has been doing fabulously, right up until I got a phone call from his teacher yesterday that he wouldn't settle down in the morning and punched one of his classmates. Twice. They wouldn't let him go on the scheduled field trip, which I totally agree with, but the oblivious boy didn't even appear to care or even notice that he was left behind and was completely unrepentant about the whole thing. Plus, daycare didn't refund my money.
Last week, the dryer died after four loads of laundry. Luckily the necessary stuff had been processed and only two loads needed to be dried. (Thanks again to
leiaorgana_73 for the use of her facilities and copious "My Boys".) Of course, the task of scheduling a repair fell to me. Today, one place led me on a merry chase through its phone tree, and I'm waiting on another to call me back. I'd really like to set up an appointment for tomorrow, considering that the husband (who has the day off for the holiday) will be home with the Emperor (whose daycare's days off put bank holidays to shame).Last weekend, the AC fizzled, and we rediscovered just how bad our windows are when we tried to open them to get some circulation going through the house. (About a third couldn't even be opened.) I would complain harder about the $180 charge for the half-hour visit it took to repair the AC, but the guy did come out on a Sunday morning, and heaven knows that I can't live with 85+ degree temps and high humidity in the house. It's not my fault that I was built for colder, drier climates.
We're trying to refinance our mortgage, to both roll in our nearly-maxed-out home equity line of credit and take advantage of the lower rates. It's been three weeks since the husband talked to our mortgage guy. I've called him three times since then, actually reaching him yesterday, whereupon he promised to email the necessary docs and call me back today. Guess what? Not a peep on either front.
With my usual late bedtime and the exciting new development of having trouble falling asleep, I'm more tired and less resilient than ever. Just when I was ready to take the plunge into getting up early and exercising, the Emperor started waking up even earlier. Thank Zod for small favors, though; at least he's getting dressed all by himself now. He's also loving online Nick Jr. games on my Eee. It's kinda frightening how quickly he's taken to navigating by track-pad. However, this means that my safe surfing times are after he's gone to bed.
Work has been pretty low-stress, except for the parts where I try to ask simple questions on my sections of the project, and then "Crap! We didn't think about that - let me get back to you" delays completely derail my efforts.
We'll be getting some quality family time with the in-laws this weekend as a nephew turns two, then hopefully we'll be attending the local fireworks display at the home of
dsjones and deaconobvious, with our spazzing dog in tow. I wish I'd gotten around to getting sedatives for her. At the last vet visit, I was too busy fending off the hard sell on flea/tick and heartworm meds.It also doesn't help that I'm taking this recent parade of celebrity deaths a little too hard. I'm starting to get scared of even looking at the recent news page. Bad news is supposed to come in threes, not powers of three.
One bright spot has been that my company managed to squeak through last year's fiscal plan with just enough excess to warrant a small bonus. I took that as a sign to finally buy my Farscape Creation con ticket for Burbank in November, finances be damned. My excited anticipation for that was dimmed almost immediately with Creation's relentless quest for cash. $7.50 handling charge for each item I buy? Dudes, you're already killing me on the base prices. Not that it's news to anyone how much Creation sucks, but if they weren't complete assholes about how much they charge, I could work in going to Polaris to see David Hewlett, or Dragon*Con to see everybody else, or Pittsburgh for a summer Fangirlium...*grumble*
It seems like a lot of other peole are feeling beat-down, too, with life really putting the 'con' in 'confluence of events'. I prescribe huge monetary or other beneficial windfalls for us all.
